Driving a new car is fun, free of breakdown worries. I usually keep my belongings clean. My previous car, Jetta, looked still clean and close to new after six years of driving. Regular car wash and minimal body dents are something I would like to do in terms of car maintenance. Instead of looking for a close parking spot, I go for a wide one to give enough space to my car, wishing no car parks next to mine. (Writing about this kind of stuff feels funny. Haha. Post A Day makes me write about all kinds of trivia.) As I treat others as I want to be treated, I respect other people’s cars, meaning I try not to park too close to other cars, avoiding any dents or scratches with my car door.
However, my car has already two dents after two months. On a Sunday afternoon at Costco, a man sprung open his car door, which scratched one of my rear view mirrors, and drove away without saying sorry even at my presence. I was upset by his I-don’t-care-a-damn-thing attitude, which bothered me until the evening. Then I got more upset by the fact I was upset over such a small matter. It was only a scratch.
A bit overgeneralized thought about my overprotection. It seems rooted from a materialistic view where possessing certain high-end goods, such as luxury cars and luxury purses and shoes, shows one’s social status in a capitalist society. As my life settled down with stable income after graduation, my choice of goods moved upwards the higher-end, having started with more expensive fashion stuff and eventually to cars. It is said that a woman’s choice in fashion goes from expensive purses to diamonds as she gets older. I don’t earn enough income to buy diamonds but I think it is true. And I admit I was under the influence of the metropolitan city – Los Angeles as those years were when I started buying expensive purses and a car. And I developed a habit of overly paying attention to my expensive goods, combined with my sensitive personality.
Since I moved to Houston, I thought that such tendency – expensive goods in possession and paying a bit too much attention to them- is somehow absurd, but way too far from getting over it. Maybe, I became a slave to capitalism.